


Tales of Love

by Merfilly



Category: Ladyhawke (1985)
Genre: Friends With Benefits, Multi, New Year's Resolutions, Post-Canon, Threesome - F/M/M, Yuletide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-22
Updated: 2011-03-22
Packaged: 2017-10-17 05:27:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/173397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/pseuds/Merfilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phillipe always has a home to go to</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tales of Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Saklani](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saklani/gifts).



"Dear Lord, I swear unto you, if you can see fit, this once... more... to deliver me from the error of my unfortunate choices, I shall remand myself quite firmly into the keeping of my dear friends at Aquila. Amen and all the other things the priests say."

Thus having invoked the eyes of God, once more, to his precarious situation, Phillipe the Mouse looked about for what salvation would present itself. He truly hadn't meant to annoy the Abbess. It was not his fault the Captain of this town's guard was most upset at having misplaced his favorite jewel from his sword's pommel.

It was loose, and Phillipe had only meant to point that out, after all. His kindness in doing so ought to have been rewarded. Instead, he'd forced to take refuge within the confines of the Abbey, which, of course, necessitated the borrowing of proper robes to blend in.

Honestly, the Abbess should have just thanked him for attempting to not make a scene by shining his charms all upon the women within the cloister.

Ahh, there was God's hand, in the form of a narrow pipe designed to carry water away from one high walkway over the wall. Fleet of foot and graced with an agility that Phillipe was certain his nom de guerre would envy, Phillipe fled the angry Abbess before she could succeed in bringing the Captain into the matter.

The robes were left by the walls, and within the hour, Phillipe had liberated a poor mule in need of a good long walk to ease the beast's long-suffering captive soul. Aquila would be so pleasant in the company of friends, rather than as an enforced guest after all, and he had promised. Phillipe kept those, within certain limitations.

`~`~`~`~`

The mule acquired a taste for full independence a half day's walk from Aquila, sadly for Phillipe. Still, he knew a warm bed, good food, and better company awaited him, so he slogged on despite the light rain. Upon reaching the home of his good friends, he decided he did not want to make them have to fuss too much. He went straight up to the door of the kitchen, slipping in when the cook was distracted, and acquiring a half loaf just carelessly sitting there on a cutting board. He slipped a clay bottle onto another finger, heedless of if it was drink or water, and was seated in the great hall by the fire warming himself well before anyone noticed him.

"Phillipe Gaston, have you no sense?" Etienne's voice boomed across the hall. "If you are going to make yourself at home, at least spare the Lady's woven rugs!" He flicked a hand at the sodden mess the one nearest the fire was now.

"Good captain, I assure you I did have sense, for I confined myself here, where I could dry, rather than drip the lavish rain of the countryside throughout the keep!" Phillipe protested, rising from the hearthstone.

The captain, dressed all in black, but lacking his sword or gloves, strode forward, and at the last moment, broke into a smile, arms open wide to embrace the not-as-wet Mouse to his chest. "You will never gain any height."

"So long as I do not loose any through introductions to sharp blades, I am well-taken with that fate," Phillipe told him. "Nor would I wish to earn more inches by stretching to the ground by my neck," he hastily added, seeing the gleam in Etienne's eye.

The bigger man nodded, smiling, and clasped Phillipe by the shoulders. "You need not fear either, if you would just come home to stay, and you know this."

"Ahh, but absence makes hearts fonder, so I wander in hopes of keeping your good graces, my captain." Phillip gave his best boyish smile, and Etienne shook him once before letting go, a gesture of amused affection and exasperation.

"You've only missed Imperius by a week."

"A pity," Phillipe said, but in a way he was glad. Were Imperius in residence, this might have been a far more sedate homecoming in some ways.

"Phillipe!" Isabeau's delighted voice came to his ears, and he turned, even as Etienne did, to see the ethereal beauty that captivated their very souls.

"My lady, you grow ever more radiant," Phillipe said once he had control of his tongue once more. He stepped away from Etienne, half-hesitating, but then she had glided in, and taken both his hands in hers, leaning in to offer her cheeks. He obliged with kisses for each, reminding himself once more that Etienne was truly a blessed man to hold her heart so fully.

"I see you found a meal," Isabeau said. "But now, you truly must get out of those sodden clothes and into something warmer," she insisted, keeping one of his hands and turning to take him upstairs.

"He may not have my new tunic," Etienne said, voice half-serious, but teasing beneath that.

"No, no. I put aside some tunics for him already. And breeches that should fit." Isabeau smiled over her shoulder, and Etienne returned it, as enraptured by her as on the day they had wed in secret.

`~`~`~`~`

Phillipe looked at the room he'd been moved to this time, noting the discreet door when the breeze from the flue fluttered the tapestry hanging over it. He smiled to himself; Etienne was crafty in his own way, or had this one been Isabeau's quiet suggestion? She had left him there, showing him the chest with clothing put aside for him. Most of it was well-worn, laundered and patched to befit his apparent station in life.

The finer garments lay carefully in the lower part of the box, for those rare occasions when they would have need of him to play a more noble role in their lives, such as if and when a babe she carried were to be christened. He did not touch them, afraid of getting dirt or grease on them, but he liked their rich colors.

He almost wished he was strong enough to live this life with them all the time, but his feet wandered, his lips were loose, and his fingers loved acquiring things on their own. It really wasn't his fault, nor theirs, but so far, they suited each other with the arrangement they had made.

He slipped into a pair of woolen breeches, expressing a moment's thanks for the sheep that had gone naked so he could wear such warmth, before pulling on a heavy tunic to match it, more or less. His feet went back into boots, but not the ones he'd worn to get here. In this, he saw Etienne's practical side, for a new pair of boots, soft-soled, but toughened to withstand abuse, were waiting for him. They were barely bigger than Mouse's small feet, which left room for thick socks.

They were quite suitable to being in castle, or out in the town, while being lighter than the ones Phillipe would wear on his travels. This meant, of course, that Phillipe would leave them here, and Etienne would not be badgered into buying him new ones every season.

"Dear Lord, that day you spared my life by leading a man on a great big black horse is one I shall never forget," Phillipe said aloud. "After all, how interesting he turned out to be, even if he did claw my chest to ribbons at a later date."

Fully dressed for company, and dry at last, Phillipe turned to go and visit with his saviors, to learn just how the weeks past had been.

`~`~`~`~`

The first time Phillipe had found himself cradled between the two bodies now close to him, he knew there had been heavy wine involved. Now...

He sighed in contentment. His belly was full, and he had danced with Isabeau to the tune of minstrels at the inn Etienne had taken them to, away from Aquila. They had returned before the sun had risen, Etienne far more sober than his young friend, and Isabeau radiating all the life she felt in their shared company.

"Awake now, young Mouse?" Etienne rumbled in his ear, hand on his hip.

"I surely cannot be, for the pleasure I feel is only akin to Heaven's own Grace."

"Phillipe, no blasphemy before the nooning, please," Isabeau said sleepily, placing a kiss first on his shoulder, then rising up so that she could kiss her husband more intimately.

As that gave Phillipe a perfect view of... and invitation to tease... her breast, he was not one to protest.

"Perhaps if I did not know one of His own angels here," he murmured, before flicking a mischievous tongue out, "I might be less inclined to speak so often of Heaven in your proximity, my lady and my lord."

"A silver tongue," Etienne said, once Isabeau had fallen back from the kiss with a soft gasp at Phillipe's impertinent seduction of her nipple.

"One he uses far too well," she agreed, before giving over to the urge to enjoy the morning as she had the night before.

Neither her husband, nor their beloved friend, held protests for her plans.

`~`~`~`~`

The turn of the weather toward warmth and sunshine saw Phillip the Mouse back upon the road, weighted by good travel clothes, water, wine, and bread. His lips pursed around a joyful song and praise for the Lord's own bounty as he traveled along, knowing that home would be there when he returned, just as it always would be.

"Truly, you have blessed this small mouse," Phillipe said to the wide open sky, smiling broadly.


End file.
